Constant Reverie
by Leafy Seadragon
Summary: A rougue mutant with the power of illusion, having previously lived with the x-men, is forced into joining the Avengers as a tool to calm down the Hulk when he's out of control. Struggling against temptations to become a supervillan herself, she must help the Avengers defeat Loki.
1. Chapter 1

"Hello Dr. Banner, Director Fury wanted to see you," Black Widow said, leaning against a wall.

Bruce groaned and set down the stack of papers he was looking through. "I showed up didn't I? Couldn't this have waited, I was counting on more time before I was summoned again. Actually I was in the middle of doing research on—," he began.

Black Widow raised an eyebrow and held up a hand. "We need you again. Oh, and before you go in, I should tell you that Fury wanted to know if there was anyone you thought would be of use to you. I'm not fooled into believing you have total control over yourself, now or ever."

He answered despite himself, "Yes, but I don't think she'd be interesting in joining."

"Then you can tell Director Fury to ask nicely," she said, opening the door and directing him through it. Bruce ambled into Fury's office, nervously adjusting his glasses.

"You people never ask nicely," he retorted.

Black Widow allowed the barest hint of a smirk to cross her features as she closed the door behind him.

Fury stood at the other side of the desk with his arms crossed, waiting. The room was like the rest of the offices of S.H.E.I.L.D's base, modern, mostly bare, and filled with monitors blazing with whatever information the user had been perusing.

Already regretting his slip up in announcing there was a person who be useful to S.H.E.I.L.D., he knew the oppressing feeling was about to get worse. "Are you familiar with Reverie?" he asked, hoping for once that a master spy would have no idea who he was talking about.

S.H.E.I.L.D's director looked surprised, and quickly pulled up a new set of files. Three pictures of three very different girls appeared on a screen, followed by what seemed to be very little information. "An illusionist, you want me to make someone who fills people's heads with crazy * part of the Avengers? Not to mention a former X-man? I only call on them when—," he began.

"Usually when it has something to do with stopping the Hulk, yes I remember Wolverine, or the other guy does. I'm not asking you to blackmail him again. You asked me if there was anyone I thought would be useful and I told you, Reverie."

Fury raised the eyebrow over his eye-patch and scowled impressively. "You trust her?"

"More than I trust you," he answered smartly. "And these pictures you have on file, not one of them are right." This was partially a lie. The pictures on the screen were masks of illusion she probably used frequently, one of which he recognized, but S.H.E.I.L.D seemed to have failed to get a real image of her.

"We can find her without her real face," Fury said harshly. He picked up a device that resembled a phone and spoke into it. "Send a team to collect the mutant Reverie. If she's in Xavier's Mansion wait for her to leave and travel a fair distance away before you approach."

Bruce Banner smiled to himself. S.H.E.I.L.D was going to have an interesting time with the illusionist.

I was not hiding, for once. The city I was living in was full of hiding places and people like me. There were even underground meetings for group discussions that reminded me of therapy. I'd had enough of that garbage and never went, but I knew where to find one and when as a back-up hiding spot.

Okay, yes, I _may _have been partially hiding, but I always was. Because of this I classified not having at least three escape plans beforehand when I was out and about as 'not hiding'.

Tonight I was going out with a human friend who would probably be offended if I ran off halfway through the date, but I was optimistic that my pursuers had at least taken a break in searching for me.

Steven, my date, was unremarkable and human, which is not to say I had anything against him, but I was mostly humoring him. I was also playing with him a fair bit. He knew me as one of my more attractive masks, which I had amplified for his benefit.

Doing things like this was what had caused tension with a group of mutants I had joined who believed everyone was equal and attracted the attention of mutants who believed the opposite. So like the rest of a series of completely escape-able problems, I up and left with more than my fair share of guilt.

I belonged to nobody.

Steven seemed to be getting the opposite of that idea and was drinking more wine than he should have been. He was most likely gathering the courage to invite me back to his home. As lucky as he was that I had given him a helping hand in his dating reputation, he was not going to get _that _lucky. I had an entirely different schedule for the evening and nothing was going to ruin it.

_Dinner, walk me to my apartment, maybe a peck on the cheek, back to the protection of my safe house, _I listed off. Perfect, no chaos, no mess. Safe.

Predictably, chaos struck three seconds after my mental reiteration of the plan.

An arrow sliced past my face and embedded itself into the wall behind me. It spread a net which missed me but snagged one of my ankles, breaking my focus and shattering the illusion I had plastered over my features. Ignoring the faces of the surprised humans, I tore my foot free of the trap and ran.

More of the net-arrows followed me as I fled to the escape route I had planned in advance while half-listening to my date fumble his words as he tried keep his eyes on my face. It was only after I ran into the four armored men that I realized I should have been looking ahead to make sure the ambushers were not being clever. Infiltrating the senses of those around me, I realized every escape option was covered by more of the uniform clad men.

Any defensive measure I could have possibly thought of in advance wouldn't have worked. I was a mouse already in their talons, the only method of escape was to wriggle and let myself fall.

Using my favorite fail-safe, I infiltrated their sight and made myself appear to be a young girl. "Hello? What are you doing?" I asked innocently, making them hear a sweet fairy-like voice. The men holstered their guns, which had previously been pointing at me and stared calmly.

They did not move aside and were looking beyond me, waiting for something. I turned around to make my way to the other exit I had examined and was surprised to see another of the strange arrows stuck in the ground at my feet. I dove aside, expecting another net, but found myself crashing into a fifth armored man who did not hesitate to hit me in the neck. Something pricked through my skin and I felt a small dart.

Furious, I cut off every single one of the man's senses, rendering him blind, deaf, and trapped in a suspended feeling of nothingness. Frightened, he lashed out, meaning to hit me but catching one of his companions and bringing them to the floor also. He was sent into his own personal bubble of oblivion and the two began wrestling. I saw them still panicking as fuzzy blackness crashed over me.

The evening was sufficiently ruined.

Drat.


	2. Chapter 2

I lashed out as soon as I felt consciousness returning, attacking anyone nearby in the same way that I had the armored man. A surprised 'hey!' in a voice I remembered from somewhere gave me pause. I opened my eyes and sat up.

A man who was a few years older than I, with glasses and a reedy build was standing next to the bed I was resting in. The room was hospital-like except without weird machines and no curtains around the single bed. Glass windows were covered by thin canvas curtains.

I sat up, rubbing my neck which felt numb. "How did...where am I...what are you doing here Dr. Banner?" Of course I knew his face, I _never _could forget a face, and looking around had given me time to remember his name.

He sat down in a chair next to the hospital bed, looking defeated with his head in his hands. Before he spoke he lifted his head and gazed at me levelly. "You aren't attacking me. That was kind of the point, I suppose. Nick Fury wants an audience with you."

The name did not bring a face to mind, but I knew instantly who he was talking about. Everyone with powers had heard that name before, or would in their lifetime, multiple times.

"S.H.E.I.L.D.," I cried, "I'm at S.H.E.I.L.D. base? Those egotistical over-theatric...Couldn't he have come talked to me without kidnapping me? He ruined my hiding place! If I want to go back there I need to devise an entirely new mask, fake ID, driver's license, birth certificate..."

"You are still hiding from him?" His face was now wearing a concerned frown.

"He does not know how to take no for an answer. Nobody says no to someone with that much power. My leaving the mansion made him think I was free for the taking. I have a feeling Fury is going to be of a similar mindset." I crossed my arms, furious that the first masquerade life I had determined as safe enough for me to live in weeks was sufficiently shot to sunshine.

"Nick Fury is not keen to have you on the team, but he wants someone who can control the other guy when I don't switch of my own free will," Bruce explained tiredly.

I laughed harshly. "People think Hulk can be controlled by an illusionist?"

Bruce looked ashamed. "I mentioned how we met."

"That was a one-time thing. I panicked and accidentally took you with me to my happy place. Replicating a fluke of that measure...it is...well, exhausting at the very least. You seem to have your temper managed," I scowled.

"Only as much as I usually do," he grumbled back.

"Start talking," Fury demanded, pushing through the door. In the blink of an eye I had his face memorized. It was hard to tell if I noticed his eye-patch or the fact that the hair above his ears was pure white first. He was wearing what I assumed was regulation for S.H.E.I.L.D., similar to the lackeys who had captured me.

I stared at him. "Excuse me?" All of my illusions were down, I had a feeling he would see through them after long and would be upset about it. Also because I had not been tricking Banner's eyes and the director's entrance surprised me.

"Drop the illusion first; your looking like a freak is not going to faze me," he added, ignoring me.

I smiled at him with midnight lips, knowing I had been right. "This," I said, gesturing to myself, "I what I look like without an illusion covering myself. I'm a mutant you know. Some of us look a little strange."

Fury did not believe me and looked at Bruce, who looked tense and nodded curtly. S.H.E.I.L.D.'s director analyzed me briefly, slightly unsettled. I admit some would find me frightening. My skin was satiny grey with harsh black markings everywhere like tattoos, I had a mouth and lips like a black mamba, and one eye was icy blue and the other was rich purple. The hair on my head was my only normal feature, straight, black, and unremarkable. I wore an illusion mask for a reason.

"Actually I think you should be the one to speak first. Why is it so important that you have me on your team?" I asked. "Do you want me so badly that you capture me like a villain would?"

Fury sighed crossly. "Your skill set is potentially useful to this organization. I'm told you can face the Hulk without harm befalling you, which I take to mean you could face about any raging monster we set you on and live to do it again. Being a member of the Avengers might not be where we assign you, but you are still an asset."

"Avengers or release Director Fury. At least if I'm part of their group your control over me will be limited. I will not be a puppet for you, especially after you sent some 'Robinhood' and five of your goons after me." The man with the arrows had thrown me off; usually pursuers had guns or used powers. Being surprised that way was almost more offensive than my captured state.

Bruce looked startled. "You sent Hawkeye after her?"

Director Fury regarded him. "I would have sent you but I wanted proof that she can do what you say she can." With one fluid motion, Fury pulled an energy gun on Bruce and pulled the trigger.

Working quickly out of instinct, I numbed his sense of touch as the energy struck and returned it quickly. Unfortunately it was not the feeling of being shot at but the sight of it I should have blocked. Bruce's eyes turned green and wild and his lab coat shredded along with everything put his pants.

"Stop!" I cried.

Having gathered the Hulk's attention, he glared at me instead of Fury.

First I wiped away the scene around him, giving his eyes an expansive beach with nothing to destroy in sight but me. Trying to fill his ears with calming sounds while my heart was beating furiously was too difficult, so I gave up on that. In regard to touch all I was able to manage was something like sand beneath his enormous feet. Affecting the other senses would wipe out my concentration and energy in seconds so I focused on making sight and what little feeling I could instill work without flickering.

The Hulk roared at me, confused, but I held my ground.

"There is nothing to be angry about, calm down Banner. What made you upset when there is nothing here but you and me? Are you cross with me? I'm sorry if I did something wrong, okay."

He glared at me, trying to figure out what had happened, trying to keep up his rage, but finding nothing to take it out on but me. The green monster picked me up with one hand and grumbled.

"THIS NOT REAL!" he yelled stupidly, smashing his other fist into the sand. The grating sound of abused metal followed.

I grimaced but put up a kinder mask. "No honey, it is a daydream. I'm sharing it with you to calm you down. Do you feel better now?"

Hulk looked uncertain and growled, "Hulk okay." His green skin became muted and he slowly shrunk back down into Bruce Banner. I caught him as he stumbled and propped him up against the bed. The illusion disappeared and Fury came back into view, looking impressed.

"Welcome to the team," he said somewhat proudly.

Bruce stirred, rubbing his head. "What...happened," he moaned.

"This idiot shot you and I cut your rage short so you wouldn't kill him." I glared at Fury. "I saved your life and a lot of damage from happening to S.H.E.I.L.D. I ought to have at least given him the satisfaction of punching you in the face you scum!"

Nick Fury looked amused and a little ticked off that I had the guts to yell at him. "I'll give you the option to call your friends and tell them you will not be coming home while Dr. Banner recovers." He walked out the door confidently, tossing in a jacket for Bruce and a cell phone for me.

"Sometimes I hate that guy a little bit," he said calmly.

"He had better count himself lucky I'm not going to show him what I'm thinking," I said, dialing the Mansion's number. While the phone on the other end rang I focused on calming down. They would think I was in trouble if I sounded upset.

The line crackled as a voice asked, "Hello, Shadowcat speaking, who is this?"

"Hey Kitty, I need you to give a message to the professor for me."

"Lena! You haven't called in weeks! Do you need help? One of the adults could come get you in the blackbird wherever you are!" her voice was panic mingled with relief. "Here, I'll give the phone to the professor."

"No! I don't want to talk to him, just give him a message for me." Kitty was silenced. I grumbled incoherently. "Is there anyone else I can talk to who is going to be more reasonable?" As much as talking to her would be nice, once she calmed down, I needed no extra words exchanged.

I heard the phone shifting from different sets of hands, a voice with a Louisianan accent saying, 'Remy's not going to talk to her'. Finally the shuffling stopped and I hoped they had not given the phone to the professor.

"You better have a good reason for going AWOL like that, everyone's been worried sick about you kid," a gruff voice growled into the phone.

I exhaled. Of course they would make me talk to the person second most likely to make me come back. At least Kitty hadn't given the phone to Cyclops, who would have given me a lecture. "Hello Wolverine. I've been fine on my own...well, mostly. Tell professor and the others I won't be coming home anytime soon. Please respect my decision and don't come after me."

"There's always a place for you here." A muted argument broke out in the background and I heard Wolverine say 'why don't you make me, bub'. A feminine voice started scolding the people arguing. Another voice told them to be quiet and the background noise ceased.

The phone shuffled around again and a voice I dreaded hearing spoke. "The first time you contacted us your message was the same. Why are you repeating it Lena? We can help you."

"Look, I just wanted to let you know I was okay without this happening," I said, shutting the phone off before Professor X could speak again. Hanging up on him was rude and he did not deserve it, but I did not want to follow reason.

Bruce pretended he hadn't heard the conversation, or maybe I had unconsciously blocked his sense of hearing. "Are you ready to get out of here? Stark's holding some sort of meeting."

I had finally pushed aside the start of the headache I had given myself in surrounding something as powerful as the Hulk with illusion, and talking to the X-men, by giving myself the illusion I felt no pain. It would wear off and hurt tenfold later, but I wanted to be clear-headed when I met the Avengers, whoever they were.

We were about to pass by a sizeable mansion when Bruce told me to turn into the driveway. I was driving because Banner's temper was still liable since it had been shut down so abruptly, and because he insisted that driving was a bad idea for him anyway.

"Are you serious?"

"Tony Stark is on the team, so yes. Pull in." I sighed and stopped as we approached and parked the car with unease. We got out and Bruce opened the front door like the mansion was his home. Tony Stark's mansion was different from the one I had known, mostly because strange techy panels were scattered around the walls.

"Welcome home," a computer made voice announced. I tried not to jump or look visibly startled.

A well-built guy in khakis and a white t-shirt walked down the steps. "Dr. Banner, who is this?" he asked. Though he tried not to look startled at my appearance, I could see that he was, a lot.

"Nick Fury collected me for your team. I'm a mutant, if you were wondering," I said brazenly before Bruce could explain.

He looked confused. "A...mutant?"

I gave him a strange look. How was he not aware of what mutants were? People like me were plastered all over the news throughout debates and crime reports. "Like you, I would guess, except I was born with powers."

Another man paused at the second floor railing. He looked arrogant, but handsome. "Who's the freaky chick?" he wondered. "Wait, let me guess, captured super-villain?"

"That isn't very polite, Stark," the naïve man said sternly. _So the arrogant one is Tony Stark, _I thought.

Bruce rubbed his forehead. "Aren't we supposed to be having a meeting?"

"Thor is out at the moment," the computer voice said mechanically. "Everyone else is present. Should I send for him Sir?"

"No Jarvis, we're fine at the moment," Stark said.

"Very well Sir," it answered.

The first man looked at me and smiled. "The house talks, you get used to it eventually."

Stark led the rest of us to a room with a conference table where several people suited up for battle were waiting. The air went still as I entered. "Have a seat next to Cupid," Stark said.

I took that to mean the man fiddling around with an arrow with a weird cylindrical head. "Wait a minute..." I said, remembering arrows like that. "You're one of the people who abducted me!"

He looked confused. "I would remember seeing you. Must be a mistake..." My face altered to the mask I had been wearing the previous night and he faltered. "Oh. I was under orders, sorry."

The chair farthest from him seemed like a better place so I took that one instead, leaving Stark to sit by the archer. I would forgive him later, for now the grudge was too fresh. The seat I had chosen was between the blond guy I saw first and Bruce.

"Okay, who are you miss?" the blond man asked once everyone was seated.

I grimaced, not used to giving anyone my real name. "Lena Eidolon, also Reverie."

He proceeded to introduce the others. The one Stark had called Cupid was Clint or Hawkeye, a petite girl with a pixie cut was Janet or Wasp, a man with sandy hair who was playing with an ant on the end of a pen was Hank or Ant-man, I already knew Bruce, had already heard Tony Stark's name, and the blond guy introduced himself as Steve Rogers.

"Are you telling me you are Captain America...like from the 1940's comic books?" I asked.

Stark looked vaguely annoyed. "He's the only one you've heard anything about? The rest of us are on the news plenty, and the news from today, not seventy years ago."

I crossed my arms. "Where I used to live we kind of focused on our own problems and enemies. The only time any of us bothered with superheroes was when Nick Fury asked Wolverine for a favor several times."

"Ah, mutants," Stark grumbled. "Are you with the good kind or did you leave the bad kind?"

"I lived in Xavier's School for the Gifted. Some other mutants targeted me because I have a power popular for a bad guy to have," I replied tersely. Mentally I was already running, executing a backflip out of my chair and crashing through a window to get away from the cruel judgment. I knew better than to actually do what I desired,

"Let me guess, you control magnetic fields," Hawkeye said sarcastically.

It was funny enough but I kept a straight face. To show them I transformed the table into a giant pink crocodile. Some recoiled and Wasp gasped. "Illusion actually," I said crisply.

Hank's eyes went wide and he touched the croc gingerly. "It is still the shape of the table underneath but it really feels like I'm touching something scaly! Incredible, how does that work?"

I shrugged; what I knew about my ability he would be able to guess in seconds, unless he was the type to assume I was a telepath and literally messing with his head, not just his senses. Just to be safe and avoid unpleasant accusations I said, "The neurons that transport feeling, sight, taste, hearing, smell, I cut off what is actually being sent to the brain and replace it with whatever I imagine. I'm limited because I cannot manipulate mass and I can only affect so many people with certain degrees of effect."

The illusion was shattered as I receded from plucking at their neurons.

"Uh, welcome to the team," Captain America said, rubbing his eyes and staring at the table.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning was filled with déjà vu. I was woken up by the computer voice announcing breakfast, and I walked down to where Stark had shown me the kitchen—in a tour he provided—was. It was slightly disorienting to see five half-dressed men wandering the kitchen, making toast and pouring cereal. Wasp being there made me feel a little less uncomfortable; at least I wasn't the only girl. And at least I was fully dressed, though in the clothes of the previous day, which was still my night out get-up.

Someone's toast finished toasting with a ding and without thinking I spread the illusion over it that it was moldy. Ant-man went to fetch his breakfast item and stared at it for a second then looked at me. With a half-grin I made it fade out.

"Your bed is going to be full of ants tonight," Hawkeye said with a snigger.

I lobbed an apple at him which he caught even though I would have missed him by a foot. He then picked up a single piece of cereal that bounced harmlessly off my forehead when it made contact.

"I would not do that, you'd probably start squishing them," Hank protested as I smiled at the archer and took the seat next to him.

"Thank you for not taking that seriously. I would not want to upset someone who controls things with an excess of legs," I said with a shudder. It was almost odd to me how easy it was to slip back into being friendly with housemates whether I knew them or not. Then again, my time spent making quick friends of strangers to stay hidden had not been letting that skill grow dormant. If I would have paused to consider it much longer than that, I would have been irritated at how many new people I was expected to make nice with in my life.

I broke out of my short daydream as Hank continued, "Ants have the perfect number of legs by design, their rhythm is impeccable—," he began a scientific lecture that was cut short with a baleful look from Wasp. "What?" he asked her.

She rolled her eyes. "Science is boring and nobody wants to think that hard so early."

"It's eight o'clock, Jan, and when is it ever too early to think?" he protested.

"Five in the morning after three days of no sleep and a lot of scotch," Tony interrupted.

The din grew muted and several of the group stared. Steve laughed then shortly realized Stark was being serious. "You have actually done that?"

"Many times in the past, and I don't recommend it," he replied, idly playing with a projection coming from a tablet sitting on the table. It was an image of some kind of technology that he was pulling apart and organizing in new forms.

"What could you have possibly been doing that justified 72 hours of staying awake?" Wasp asked. "That's just stupid. Even a good party is still just two days at most."

Stark laughed in a barking style, "What do you think?"

Wasp wrinkled her nose, "Pig."

"Former pig," he insisted. "And I was working on tech between the—."

"Okay!" Wasp said loudly before he could go further. "That's enough about that, I'm so done here." Shrinking and growing a pair of dragonfly wings, she took off, flying out of the kitchen.

"Between what?" Steve asked so innocently I had a minor flashback to my days at a different mansion.

Tony Stark was about to open his mouth again when I assuaged his taste buds with the sensation of chili powder mixed with soap. He gagged against the invisible items and went very red in the face.

"Sorry," I apologized, not with much meaning attached, returning to my breakfast like nothing had happened.

"What...that's...you..." Stark spluttered as I relinquished my hold over his senses.

I shrugged, hiding a smile under a mask. "You can talk about that kind of thing later. It is not a topic to be breached at the table. And I'm sorry about the unpleasant taste; it's kind of a reflex."

He looked at me quizzically, irritated.

"I recently lived in a place with a lot of angst ridden teens and confused young children. Censorship was what was expected of me," I explained, swallowing a bite of yogurt with some difficulty. Thinking about the past was not something I enjoyed, too much disappointment tainting otherwise pleasant memories.

"How about you just ask me to shut up next time?" Stark gagged, still plagued by the memory of the unfortunate mix of soap and peppers.

"You would actually stop talking if she told you to?" Bruce asked from where he was tucked in a corner, away from the central bustle.

Tony paused for a moment, deep in contemplation and said, "Nope. I'd keep talking for as long as I felt like it and you would have to deal with it."

The general noise rose back to its former volume as the conversation branched off to other things. As stealthily as a predator I escaped the table and went back to my room, checking every lock out of habit. Satisfied that I could escape quickly if need be, I opened the drawers of the polished wooden dresser before realizing that I was not at home and I had no clothes in the strange mansion.

I did not necessarily _need _to wear anything, but I was not about to walk around either a) nude or b) in something I'd been wearing for two days. Some mutants felt comfortable enough in their powers to go free as a bird which was something I never really understood. And with my reputation for limited focus I was bound to forget that I needed to project covering and give everyone an unintended free show.

To my surprise, I found a small selection of my own outfits including my uniform. It was my design and not regulation like the X-men in training wore. Its neckline was low to show off some of the markings on my upper chest without being ridiculously revealing, there were no sleeves—instead I wore a pair of leather fingerless gloves that went up to my elbow—the 'shirt' was extended into a sheer undulating skirt that did not reach any substantial length, and the bottom was seamlessly attached capris-length leggings for a touch of modesty. The costume was colored dark grey to complement my skin and a deep shade of plum for a highlight to the dreary colors. Searching the hidden pockets revealed that my daggers were still in their places.

Fingering the uniform felt safe, but I left it and the knives in their place in the drawer.

_Later, _I mentally promised myself.

A new city meant spending a morning to seek out and explore everything so that I could memorize what my new landscape looked like. I hated being lost.

The only thing that bothered me—aside from the fact I was making myself vulnerably by ignoring my uniform—was that I did not yet know if anyone on 'my' team had my back. At this point they probably would not care if something horrible either happened to me or was caused by me. I would just be someone who had potential that lost it one way or another.

_Aren't we just full of wholesome thoughts this morning, _I thought satirically.

After slipping on yoga pants and a tank top I tip-toed back downstairs, making for the door. I was not sure if I was allowed to leave quite yet and did not want to take my chances with someone trying to tell me I had to stay put, which would be ignored.

Unfortunately I ran into Iron Man on the steps and he handed me a small square device. "It lets you know if we're assembling."

The small communication device earned a reproachful stare from me. "Tracking is included in the package?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. Tracking was a must for groups of superheroes. They _needed _to know where everyone was and be able to check up on it _whenever _they desired.

"Duh," he answered without looking back, trotting upstairs.

Feeling slightly restricted, I tucked the device in a pocket and made my way to the door. I almost ran into Bruce as he was headed toward wherever he had been going, presumably the lab. He halted just short of the potential collision and met my eyes with a wan smile.

"Sorry. I'm going on a walk around the city. Do you...want to come?" I asked hesitantly.

Bruce looked slightly uncertain, like he wanted to come but something held him back. "I don't like people," he said flatly.

"Avoiding crowds was already part of the plan," I said, walking out the door.

The words 'see you later' were perched on my tongue when he followed me. I smiled to myself, glad that I had a companion in this strange place. We walked the streets, staying a respectful foot apart from each other, going nowhere in particular and not talking much.

It was more peaceful than I would have imagined, walking around New York where way too many people were crammed into one space with a person like me who also barely kept his personal demons in check.

"What city were we in when we met?" I asked after a long time.

"Chicago; the Hulk almost wrecked the Field Museum, and the people chasing you did some damage to the main dinosaur skeleton they had on display. That was a memorable afternoon," Bruce said dryly.

I laughed quietly, but froze and went silent like the dead in an instant. A man with red sunglasses with a face around them I instantly recognized stood out in the small group of foot traffic ambling past. A red-headed woman walked with her arm twined in his.

"Blistering oblivion," I seethed, drastically reworking my illusion mask.

"They work for the guy who is trying to get you on his side?" Bruce asked, not missing a thing. A half smile graced his features. "You curse very creatively."

I picked up my pace, trying not to make it obvious that I was attempting to leave the two people far behind. "No, it's almost worse. They are part of Xavier's team, two of his earliest students. I just know if the one with the glasses sees me he's going to yell at me and demand I come home. Can't stand it when Cyclops treats me like a child, he never even knew me as a kid, we met as adults."

"The same Cyclops who has lasers emitting from his eyes? I've always wondered what kind of energy that was exactly, maybe some sort of—," he continued with his scientific analysis past the point of terms I could understand. I nodded as I planned routes to lose the two X-Men, still listening intently, trying to make sense of at least half of what he was saying.

Not wanting to interrupt his train of thought, I directed him into a pleasant café without a word. Cyclops and Jean did not continue on the sidewalk, they seemed to think the café was charming enough to begin whatever they had planned for their day in the city.

Gritting my teeth and tapping one foot nervously, I sat at a table with Bruce and wondered how I was going to avoid being noticed. After a while of knowing me and having neurons messed with enough, a person could develop a nearly unnoticeable sense of when I was altering things. It was the same with someone who I had spent more than ten consecutive hours modifying their senses. The sensation had been described to me as something like having contacts in your eyes way too long, or as a slight itching tickle that was barely felt, if at all.

As long as they did not look my way for more than a few moments or realize they knew the twitchy feeling in their eyes, I would be able to just scrape past them. There was also the chance they would recognize the mask I was using, a blend of my three favorite ones.

"What are you going to do now?" Bruce wondered calmly.

"Try to decide if you are judging me or not while I wait them out," I replied.

He sighed. "I'm trying not to, but I have to wonder what made you so afraid of confrontation. They were your friends once and you are hiding even from them."

"It is complicated. I don't want to talk to them any more than necessary—or in person for that matter—because they think they know what's best for me. They probably do, but that does not make me any more eager to listen."

Bruce gave me a sympathetic look lined with pity and vague annoyance. "Please don't insult me by lying to me. These people scare you for reasons that go deeper than some petty dislike of being treated like a child. Your actions speak for you anyway; not only are you terrified of those you once were friends with and of villains, you fear something else far more."

His acceptance of my strange antics and even more bizarre timidities threw me off and I lost my focus entirely. As it happened, Jean had been staring into space near my face and noticed the difference immediately. The single waitress working the café also saw and the coffee she was carrying shattered against the cheerfully colored linoleum. To avoid any other harsh stares I molded a new face against my own, but it was too late to stop Jean from having seen.

"Lena?" she queried, standing uncertainly. I could feel her mental presence dipping into my head, but politely trying not to go too far.

"Blasted realm of coincidence," I muttered. "Hello, to the both of you."

Trying to relieve the oddity of the situation, Jean smiled and asked, "Who is your friend?" like this was just a normal run in and I hadn't been ignoring their very existence for months. I assumed she was being kind because Jean could pick up my guilt though her psychic reach was not far into my conscious. If she had been trying to dig too deep though I would have given her mental eye something else to see to block her telepathic search and she knew it. Thus her polite, and much appreciated, effort of staying on the very edge of my mind.

I still felt like screaming obscenities from a building where everyone would hear. "This is Bruce. Um...Bruce, these are Scott and Jean, some old friends of mine," I said with an illusionary smile painted over my grimace. None of their last names were mentioned, Bruce did not need them to know who _else _he was and his full name would give it away.

"Why did you run away?" Cyclops demanded, ignoring the fact that Jean seemed to want to avoid harsh accusations. "Where have you been? Everyone has been worried sick about you! You aren't safe on your own!"

"Run away? I left a note and called you the next morning before anyone had time to get worked up to tell you that I moved out. And what gives you the right to treat me as if I can't take care of myself like an adult? He's not tailing me anymore or sending Brotherhood agents at me. My guess is that he has no idea where I am. I have been safer hiding in illusion than I was hiding at the school," I countered, trying to keep my tone pleasant.

Cyclops stood up, staring down at me through his sunglasses, ready to full on yell at me like a parent would. I stood up too, molding my illusionary self to match his height. His scowl deepened. "We can protect you from Magneto and the Brotherhood."

"This goes much deeper than hiding from them," I said acidly, leaving an illusion of myself behind to glare at him and a stoic Bruce where he was as I erased the real people from their vision and quit the café, letting the doppelgängers vanish as soon as we turned the corner. I heard an exasperated voice yelling 'REVERIE' from the café.

Bruce made no comment about the encounter as we walked on. I glared at him, daring him to say something, anything, finally snapping as we crossed the threshold of Central Park. Before I had a chance to say anything he finally spoke up, but it was not what I expected him to say.

"We should spend the rest of the day here, if you want," he suggested. "There are a few places that are fairly secluded."

I was startled that he was not asking questions or pestering me in more subtle ways about what had happened. His earlier acceptance had not wavered as I expected it to. After so much time spent with me, especially after a run-in with Cyclops like that, people would start coveting information on my behavior, mostly normal humans who thought it was something mundanely scandalous. He did not care because he was firm in the belief that someday I would tell him myself and that it would be easier on me if I let it out on my own terms. The thousand faces I'd memorized over the years bore a million expressions with the merest deviations that allowed me an ability to loosely translate what was at the front of someone's mind. Banner was certain I trusted him enough to give everything.

...But not just yet.

"Yes," I replied seconds after he asked, still lost in thought.

And so the day was spent in the park, sitting in the grass and eventually gaining confidence and talking at length. We were both comfortable in silence though and let the sound drop as we contentedly listened to the music of our own thoughts and stared at the foliage. Any time a person passed by I made us invisible to the world and our day in separation from our demons went on.

It was late when we slowly walked the route back to the mansion. The nightlife was dimmed where we passed through, mostly sleeping homeless people and shadowed figures crouching in the alleyways. A ten year old boy came stumbling out of one of the alleyways crying.

"Somebody please help!" he wailed. Seeing us, the boy trotted over and choked over his sobs. "My sister is sick, she won't wake up and she isn't breathing normal! Please!" Without waiting for an answer the child took off running through the streets. Bruce followed right after him and I trailed even though the situation felt wrong. We were going away from the area people lived in and toward the warehouses by the harbor. The street signs screamed warnings at me that the boy was leading us astray, but things kept catching my feet and I was slowly falling behind, unable to convey my doubts to Banner. Something tangled around my ankles again but I was unable to shake it off and went sprawling on the street. I kicked furiously and heard a soft clank against the asphalt.

Metal.

Metal that was thick and unyielding to normal methods of abuse, wrapped perfectly around my legs and curling tighter, winding up to my thighs.

Metallic configuration of the like that only someone who was telekinetic or able to manipulate magnetic fields could manage.

"You were rather hard to trace as of late, Reverie. Have a nice vacation?"

"Yes Mr. Lensher. I hope Mystique knows she has to be careful around my friend, you know, the one from Chicago when we met at the museum."

Though I could not see him, I knew what little of his face was visible underneath his helmet had paled. "She is not here tonight, that was a new member of the Brotherhood with the ability to change the age he appeared as."

I could not help feeling a little disappointed. Being at the very least chased all over NYC by the Hulk would have been what the snake deserved. As it was though, thinking of that unfortunate mutant who was probably stupidly and unknowingly taunting Bruce had not been a relatively fast runner. Mystique could make it through a lot, but the recent joiner of the Brotherhood was not her.

A horrific scream rent the night air followed by a furious roar.

Magneto appeared from the darkness briefly to clock my head with a flying hunk of metal. "I am sorry, but let's see you survive your 'friend' without your abilities at your disposal. And I was hoping you would finally listen to reason and join me. Oh well, perhaps you will make it, likely not. A waste of such promise," he intoned forlornly, disappearing into the night with a sweep of his cape as I began fading out.

_Why do people I dislike keep knocking me unconscious! _I thought blearily as everything became a rushing starless night.


	4. Chapter 4

A steady rhythm of beeping noises that sounded like the mantra of a hospital was the first thing that really connected with my scattered and groggy conscious. The second was bright white artificial light. Finally I blinked several times and looked around. I was lying in a hospital bed in an infirmary; probably inside the mansion because Captain America and Iron Man were in the gear they wore for practice, not quite their uniforms but close. I could not feel anything which did not make my initial mood any more pleasant, and it was already sour to begin with. "What—," I started testily, not needing to finish before information was given.

"You're back at the mansion, and safe. We had to call in a favor with a doctor to see to you because Banner is refusing to be around people, period. He also told us zip, so fill us in China Doll," Stark said.

"Where is Bruce?" I wondered faintly.

Steve Rogers looked down at the floor.

Iron Man was not as shy. "He's off sulking somewhere. Doesn't make sense to me, it's not like you're dead."

I glanced down at the IV lines taped to my wrist and inner elbow, one with clear fluid, one with white stuff that looked the consistency of pudding, and one with blood. The machine that was built seamlessly into the wall blipped away in dead monotone, charting every vital sign that existed. My left leg was wrapped in layers and layers of gauze and so were one of my shoulders and my forehead. "I want to see him right now."

"Dr. Banner does not need you to lecture him, he already feels bad enough for hurting you," Steve scolded in a very 1940s military manner that I was learning to expect.

"'Lecture him'? You think I'm going to tell him off when it was not his fault? I want him in here so I can tell him to stop moping and thank him!"

Stark raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were a masochist."

"Shut it. Yes I want to thank him. He dragged me back here; if he hadn't I would have been taken...by...an enemy. Besides, the real damage to my leg was done by the person who was pursuing me. And this isn't anything substantial, please, I've seen worse from a session in the Danger Room!"

"Morphine's kicked in, she's lost it."

I threw my head back on the pillows. "You gave me morphine for a few scrapes?!" The explanation on what the Danger Room was would have to wait; I was too ticked off to impart something to a person who wasn't willing to listen.

Steve again became fixated on the ground and Tony reached for a tablet sitting on a small table across from the bed. He flipped through a couple screens and pulled up a holographic display of what my flesh looked like underneath the plentiful gauze. I almost gagged.

"Hulk wasn't very clear about what exactly caused it; he just kept saying something about metal and got mad when we wanted him to be more specific. Finally he kind of explained that your legs were a 'metal mummy'. Then he changed back and saw you. Well, Dr. Banner is upset to say the least. He was shaking when he left," Steve explained, glaring at Iron Man until he turned the tablet off.

The image blinked out.

I grumbled to myself and tore out each IV carefully and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

"Whoa," Steve said, holding me back and trying to keep me where I was.

His hands went right through the projection of me and I slipped over the other side of the bed and hobbled forward a few steps. Iron Man smiled cockily and intercepted me easily in front of the door. "Stop, you don't think you'll actually get anywhere do you? If you want to see Banner so bad I'll get him to come down here." With ease he pulled me up and carried me back to the bed and plopped me back on the pillows, snapping the Velcro restrains around me before I had the chance to resist the thin black straps.

An image of a dog's head enveloped my own like Egyptian statues of Anubis and I snapped at him. The fake razor sharp white teeth closed inches from his face. He flinched a little but otherwise kept his head as I scowled, crossing my arms and settling back into the cushy pillows. A small fire-breathing dragon curled around my shoulders and joined me in staring at him.

"Banner won't listen to you. If you go down there and try to talk some sense into him he'll likely snap again and you could get hurt. Let me go see him. I'll be fine as long as my focus holds if anything happens. Please, this is just a flesh wound."

Tony's face lit with a smile. "Tell us what happened last night."

The illusionary dragon lunged at him and wrapped its talons around his head, turning and rubbing its deadly spine against his face. I made sure he could feel the razor sharp scales, though the sensation did not go so far as to feel like it was piercing his flesh. "Finish that sentence with 'and we will let you go talk to him alone."

"Feisty for a China Doll aren't you. Ugh, tell us and you can talk to Banner alone," he consented. The dragon gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, turned into a ridiculous pink butterfly, and perched on his head. He gave me a death glare until I made it vanish with a smile.

Steve was trying valiantly not to snicker.

"A mutant disguised as a little boy separated us the leader of a group called the Brotherhood of Mutants trapped me with thick bands of iron wrapped tight around my legs. I guess the mutant set Bruce off and he might have died but I all I heard was a horrible scream. The leader knocked me unconscious after I told him who Banner was. I guess the scrapes are from Hulk trying to do his best to get the metal off without hurting me. My shoulder is probably from the fall I had when the iron tripped me, made worse because who knows how long I was lying there and Hulk not having the gentlest hands. There, are you happy, now if you please?"

Stark glanced at the Velcro and shrugged. "I'll get Goldilocks to come and be her back-up," he said as he unstrapped me quickly.

"_Goldilocks_ stays out of...wait, which teammate is that?"

"What is the point of coming up with nicknames when no one gets it?" Tony complained, quitting the room.

"He's referring to Thor, which you will understand when you see him. You did not have the opportunity of meeting him yet. Whoa, hey watch it," Steve caught my arm and supported me as I stumbled over one of the disconnected IV's.

"Don't give me that look, I'm fine." I formed an illusion of and uninjured doppelgänger over myself.

He did not let go and insisted on helping me through the exit and down the hallway. The lab was not too far away and I made him release me before I entered. A very tall man with long blond hair and a beard was waiting by the door. Suddenly I understood the 'goldilocks' nickname and had to choke back a snicker.

"You must be Thor," I said pleasantly. "Hello, I'm Reverie."

"Lady Reverie you are a strange color and very small for a frost giant," Thor said, his hand ready to take up a ridiculous hammer at his side. I was unsettling to him. Not that I wasn't used to that, it was just strange how he was trying to be polite and not act like he felt I was a threat. Most did not consider that treating me like that might hurt my feelings.

"I am not a frost giant. There are humans here gifted with powers that affect the way they look. Like irremovable war paint."

He visibly relaxed. "You are a warrior maiden then. I still question whether you should be going in there alone. Mortals are fragile."

I sighed and pressed my hand to my forehead. "Meeting Wolverine would be and educational experience then," I muttered.

He heard me anyway. "Are you referring to one of the small wolf-like creatures that live in your northern lands?" Thor wondered.

"Er...the creatures called wolverines are more closely related to ferrets, actually," I corrected. "And I'm talking about a human with a metal skeleton and regenerative powers whose name is Wolverine. He has the temper of the little ferret relative though." I smiled briefly from a mental image of what Logan's face would look like if I said that to him.

I sighed and pressed my hand to my forehead. "Do you think I would be on the team if I couldn't handle myself?"

"Forgive me Lady Reverie; you would not be confident in your ability without reason."

Nodding, I slid the lab door open and slipped inside, closing it behind me. The lab was dark, with only a single dim lamp lit on one of the tables. Bruce was standing in front of the metal table, glaring at a scattered pile of glass shards. I waited. Finally he noticed someone else was in the room and glanced my way, flinching when he saw it was me. Another glass phial shattered in his hand.

While I waited for him to speak his tongue lingered as well. No doubt he expected me to yell at him, tell him he was reckless and stupid. Banner knew me well, but there were things he did not know. Figuring out that if I did not start nothing would be said, I began, "How well do you remember his memories?"

"Very faintly if at all," he choked out.

"Damn. You aren't going to believe me."

He glared at the broken phials. "I already know and it wasn't hard to figure out. Doesn't vary much from time to time, things get smashed: buildings, cars, and people. You shouldn't be hiding your injuries, I saw them."

"Yes, I heard about your reaction to that. I'm curious why you didn't switch back."

"At first I could not believe I'd done it. You've held him off before, how would you not be able to again? But judging by your head you were not conscious to do so."

"I wasn't awake, and I wanted to say thank you." I was about to continue, explaining why I was grateful before his self-hatred twisted every word around, when he interrupted me. Banner was not in a listening mood, especially not to kind words.

"What? Are you insane? Bringing you home for medical treatment does not deserve thanks after what he did to you! Reverie you were supposed to be off limits, but no one is! I thought it would be different, that I wouldn't be able to hurt you. How could I do this again? It is never different!" He was shaking now, trying to stay calm. "Get out."

"No, not until you listen to me and let me tell you what happened," I demanded.

Bruce continued to glare at the blank tabletop he stood over, trembling with barely suppressed anger. I could practically hear his racing heart. Sighing, I carefully tiptoed closer to him. He tensed as I gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Making soft shushing noises, I carefully made him turn to face me and embraced him. At first Banner tried to pull away, but I did not let him. "You always assume the worst. If it weren't for you I would be helpless under the control of someone I've been running from. You saved me like the hero you are," I said quietly, smoothing my voice, making it comforting.

Steadily his heartbeat skipped back to its normal pace, but I didn't let go, and before long he wrapped his arms around me as well.


	5. Chapter 5

**(Okay, it's not as if I have many people following on my work, but I apologize for the delay between chapters. I've had other stories still on the drawing-board keeping my focus. There is a gap in the story's timeline between this chapter and the last chapter, about a week maybe, because I didn't feel like having a filler chapter to catch up with what's in this chapter.)**

"HYAH!" I screamed, slashing through the dummy I had conjured and bringing forth rivers of blood. The subject moaned pitifully but regained its footing, pressing on and striking back. I evaded and gave it a nasty gash on its neck which drew even more of the blood, this time the color of chocolate syrup. "Die you worthless apparition!"

Its lopsided head grinned evilly at me and launched a counter attack, striking down then whirling its blade to my side. The ghostly katana went right through me and I swore. My mannequin vanished along with its sword and I sheathed my own blade.

"Why can't I ever block that move?" I cried, bringing forth a new subject to fight. The new dummy was terrifying even though I knew it was my own creation. It was a regular man except with six purple tentacles in the place of arms, each bearing a broadsword.

I knew there was something grievously wrong in my head besides my mutation, however I wasn't about to own up to it. Three o'clock in the morning, an empty training room, and half my attention focused on the senses of my sleeping teammates to make sure I would not be disturbed. Besides the dummies I was fighting, I had conjured a few characters from the book _Alice in Wonderland_ and from _And Then There Were None_ to have a tea party in order to further distract my mind. If I didn't let my wayward mind have its whims enough I got distracted in normal life and shared the mental visions with those of lesser constitutions.

"Fourteen," I said aloud.

The characters stopped trying to murder each other with The Seven Little Indian statuettes and looked at me as if _I _were the one who had lost my marbles.

"Fourteen!" I screamed, whirling and throwing my sword so that it stuck in the wall. "Dammit! I'm never going to keep from thinking about it!"

I sank to my knees and wiped the illusions away, wrapping my arms around myself and shuddering. Eventually I stopped hyperventilating in the chill silence. I picked myself off the floor and took up the katana again. A normal human foe appeared: a reflection of me. She stood tall, looking down at me imperiously like I'd disappointed her.

"You'll go crazy if you keep doing this to yourself," she said with measured certainty, something I hadn't planned on making myself hear. "Fourteen," Doppelgänger Reverie said in echoing tones. She said it again and again, taunting me with it.

Not able to stand it any longer, I dropped the sword and ran out of the practice room as if for my life, sprinting silently through the hallways. In my distraction, I ended up back in the lower levels, near the lab entrance. A lamp was switched on and filtering a yellow glow through the hazy glass doors. Curious and desperate for company I tiptoed inside. "Hello?" I called into the lab.

"So you are an insomniac," a tired voice replied. Hidden behind a row of shelves, Bruce was working away, analyzing samples and taking notes on a high-tech laptop.

"I'm not. I always wake up around this time. Do you usually forgo sleep?" I asked.

"Sometimes," he covered a yawn. "Are you going to tell me it's not helpful for my condition? As if I haven't heard that enough..."

Peering at a vial full of green liquid on one of the shelves, I laughed lightly. "Who am I to tell you what you can and cannot do? It's not like you're out of control."

"Not at the moment," he answered darkly.

"Oh please, you have more self-control than most people I've met. You have hardly been sleeping since the almost-kidnapping." Mentally hitting myself upside the head for making a simple phrase sound so creeper-ish, I promptly shut my mouth and tried to act like I hadn't said something awkward.

"You've been keeping record of my sleeping habits?"

"Occasionally I notice you don't sleep. I worry about you. When something bad happens you take it hard."

"The person who separated us died," he spat bleakly.

Something clicked in my brain, telling me this was what I'd been waiting for. Finally I could say what I'd been keeping back for years. "He brought it on himself by attacking you. The woes of the living are worse. Imagine if the poor man had accidentally led me away with him: he would be sitting in a mental ward with nurses trying to keep him from eating his own fingers."

Bruce analyzed my face carefully, figuring the deeper meaning to what I'd said. He was smart, it didn't take long. "So that was why Fury let an illusionist on the team. Your gift could potentially be a weapon and he wants you close now that he knows. I'm sorry Reverie. We'll protect you from that," he promised, not realizing that I'd already played the part of a weapon.

I lost the courage to say the number fourteen. It was selfish to hide it, and painful because he still didn't know that I related to him. "Get some sleep Banner, you'll stop thinking about it sooner," I said instead, kissing him on the cheek.

He recoiled in surprise, knocking his glasses askew and staring wide-eyed at me. Banner straightened his glasses distractedly and growing red in the face. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I'm not used to that."

"We can work on it," I said with a grin, pecking him on the cheek again and quitting the room.


	6. Chapter 6

We were convened in the room that acted as a living room of sorts, but was decorated in a chic style I was not used to associating with living rooms. Any place that I had ever made my home either was very traditional, my parents house, or had no living room, the various run-down apartments I favored while on the run. The TV was on low volume, flipped to the evening news. Steve Rogers reminded me of my grandparents sometimes.

Sick of the harsh sterile environment of the infirmary, but still recovering from my injuries, I demanded that I only visit the awful room for bandage changing and had camped out in several different rooms across the mansion. The living room was the seventh place that day to become my temporary headquarters. Walking still hurt or I would have been bouncing all over the place to prove a point. Infirmity was not my thing, especially if I had to spend a long time alone entertaining myself.

When that happened things got weird.

Padded cell and straightjacket weird.

Which made me very glad for the company, though I could handle my own illusions.

Something caught my attention on the screen just then. One of those clips on the news that always made me hate to watch it again afterward, the kind usually about recent murders or tragedies. I lost my taste for it entirely after the eight times my victims' names were mentioned. When the newscaster said the words 'the body of a missing person identified today from a horrifically mauled John Doe the police found yesterday,' I felt a weird sense of trepidation that at first I could not place. Hawkeye was a step ahead of me.

He nonchalantly stood and turned the television off, "They just have to make a big deal about the last piece of news they give you, dragging it on forever when they say all you need to know in the first three seconds. Waste of time." And Clint sat back down with a look in my direction.

I nodded minutely at him and he nodded back in the same fashion. Janet and Hank made idle conversation, the result of Wasp putting the pieces together too. She was very subtle about it too, luring Tony into joining them as well to make it more of a distraction.

Bruce Banner could be intuitive at times, and was very quick on the uptake. "Oh no," he said, so quietly I was certain I was the only one to hear. He left, starting to tremble. Not in the way that let us know we'd soon have to repair the mansion, but in the way of a person about to start having a fit of tears.

"What's wrong with him?" Tony asked impatiently.

I glared at him, flipping the screen back on. Predictably they showed the victim's face and name, but were 'kind' enough to inform the general populace that he had been a mutant. Less people getting emotionally touched is probably what the news people were going for with adding that wonderful tidbit.

The boy had not been an age changer like I assumed. He was only a boy, and he was an illusionist like me, very low level though, not anywhere near as powerful as I. Magneto was not above sending a boy to his death, especially to get at me.

That stung.

The hostility I wanted to direct at my enemy was channeled into what I said to Stark. "Hulk went berserk when we were separated. Perhaps you could try learning something called compassion. Everyone else knew that it would be a sore subject. I've been walking around all day with a smile though it flipping _hurts _to convince him that he didn't hurt me."

"But he did," Stark countered without menace, not really getting it.

"The flip side to her little show is that she was also trying to save face. Reverie's still the newbie and she wants to prove her place here. You can understand that part right Stark?" Clint explained.

I winced as I stood up and walked slowly to the door, closing it louder than necessary behind me.

As usual when I was looking for Banner, I started in the lab.

The door slid open and I almost squealed when I peered in the white-walled room. "What are you doing?" I bellowed, enhancing it through meddling with his sense of hearing to be the quality of voice I would expect from a dragon: sibilant, echo-y, loud and booming, and of course, altogether unreasonably scary. I knew what I'd run across and it ticked me off.

Banner jumped about a foot, starting to hyperventilate, almost dropping the syringe full of unhealthy green-colored liquid.

"Were you going to inject yourself with that? Alone with no one to make sure you don't start having a seizure or something? Are you out of your normally brilliant mind? What is it?"

He rattled off a list of chemical compounds, mixtures, and things I didn't even know how to categorize in my limited understanding of science. Finally my death glare took full effect and he went quiet, mumbling one word: 'cure'.

"And have you spent years on it, testing it on mice, running multiple trials, and cataloguing every little thing to perfect it? Don't lie; the answer is no," I growled.

He looked down; eyes rimmed red with the aftereffects of crying. "I can't test a cure for the Hulk on healthy rodents. This one took a week, and I've been putting off testing it since you came here. But I can't rely entirely on you. If you're unconscious you can't control him, and then you could die. Maybe this one will work."

"You figured out when we met that I can only help so much when you're really miffed before I lose consciousness. The rest is up to you and it's not impossible. And what on earth do you expect that awful stuff to do? Get rid of him for good? Suppress it for good? Do you really hate yourself that much?"

"It comes and goes every time there's a particularly nasty incident," he quipped morosely.

I smothered a grin. "Funny. Will you please put down the syringe?" An illusion of me stood in my place as I crept close. Though I hated to do it I tried to convince myself that messing with him in this instance would hurt nothing. Bruce sighed and placed the needle on the lab table behind him, removing the tourniquet he'd strapped over his forearm. Both vanished and were transported to a hazardous waste container while he stared at the replica-Reverie. Always the curious scientist, he approached the false apparition and ran a hand down her arm, tracing the contours. His sense of touch was rewarded with the warm feel of substantial flesh. I removed my invisibility and muffle shields and said, "If you want to find out if that's me you have to try and stick and hand through her. I'm over here."

He swiveled. "That's quite a guilty face for someone who probably saved me an unpleasant transformation."

I ground the ball of my foot into the white tiles. Once more the number coursed through my mind and rested on the tip of my tongue. Thinking about the former times _my _victims faces plastered the news had brought it up again. "Does seeing things that I create bother you?" I wondered instead.

"Does a trip to an art museum bother you?" he returned smartly, "No Reverie, what you show me won't exactly give me nightmares. You don't like using your harmless abilities?"

_Not harmless. Fourteen isn't harmless, _I said mentally. Out loud I replied quite casually, "Remind me to tell you a story about that someday."

And I smiled and let the conversation drop as he began working on a new project. Occasionally I would wash out petri dishes and graduated cylinders, or hand him bottles of chemicals and fresh microscope slides. The quiet was peaceful, and the amount of work accomplished staggering, but nothing was erasing the number from my mind. I began to count them.

The creepy mailman, a college professor, college roommate, a stranger who hit on me, someone's pet schnauzer, a mugger, a new boyfriend when we had our first fight, three classmates, the college roommate who replaced the first, a great aunt who gave another boyfriend a backhanded compliment, that boyfriend, and lastly my sister. The last four happened on the same day.

In the mental wards, when I visited after I'd harnessed the 'gift', I had tried to undo it and they screamed and screamed the bone-chilling way that only psychos can. The professor could not help them either. Fourteen permanently stuck in the modern version of an asylum, drugged up past ever being coherent again.

I was the worst kind of monster, like a microscopic germ nobody thinks to look for until it's too late and they're dying. My kind was a species of wretched creature that does worse than kill things.

And I would never tell anyone.


	7. Chapter 7

**(Sorry I haven't posted in a while—if you care, that is—I've been busy with my other stories and haven't gotten any inspiration for this story for quite a while. Mostly I was stuck on this upcoming scene I'm planning. It's too far in the future though and I was having trouble filling the timeline gap. Thank you to people who post reviews, each time a new one shows up it makes my day. Really though I'm thankful that anyone reads my fanfics at all.)**

Steve paced towards me with his usual confident military gait, but his expression was uneasy. "Reverie, suit up. There's been a small scale breakout of a super-villain prison and we located one of the escapees. They're a mutant so you should be a big help."

"Finally a mission...there are seriously 'super-villain prisons', that sounds like comic-book nonsense, you'd think someone would come up with a more professional term," I exclaimed, rambling out of sheer giddiness, and then I noticed the worried look. "Oh...you doubt me, well...how reassuring."

I was a connoisseur of facial expressions and the thousand-and-one nuances of emotion, not without practice of course. And the look on his face was uncertain. Unthinkingly I tampered with illusion to make the air feel icy. Captain America shivered minutely.

"You still have stitches Reverie, are you sure you're ready to go out there?"

"I am. So who's this escaped mutant?"

The captain handed me a glass tablet, screen alight with information. The picture made me cringe, but I had given my word that I was ready and I was not about to take it back from unease about who the mutant was.

Quicksilver, one of the Brotherhood's own, no doubt he would have back-up.

Cap addressed me again when the time he'd given me to read the file was up. "We do not know who facilitated his escape. Do you know any of his allies?"

"Where to start…Avalanche, Blob, Domino, Toad, possibly BamBam, and others, I don't know who all are low enough ranks in the Brotherhood to help Quicksilver. He's only a nuisance in the grand scale of things. Why aren't the X-men handling it? Is something more pressing occupying their attention?"

Usually we X-Men kept to our own kind. Other teams were never as fair and unbiased towards mutants. And the professor believed in giving everyone a chance. His belief of the ability to change was why I roamed free instead of being locked in a super-villain prison or a solitary psych ward cell. Why the Avengers were being called on for something so petty and involving mutants was a mystery. Paranoia reared its ugly head.

"No, they sent someone but we're going to get there first before the…Brotherhood…causes too much mayhem. Ready soldier?"

"Ready for anything…except Mystique." I shuddered and made the air waver like heat over asphalt to further convey the opinion. Then I swept the illusionary clothes I had been keeping over my uniform away and smiled, giving Captain America a two-fingered salute, "Suited up sir."

Toad kicked my face, forcing me to the ground as he jumped to a wall, crouching there and sticking his tongue out at me and grinning like he had won.

Quicksilver wriggled on the ground, struggling against the cuffs that connected his hands to his feet like a trussed deer. "Hey!" he called to Toad, "Get me out of these things!"

I had made an enticing alleyway appear where there wasn't one and the mutant gifted with super-speed had fallen for it and crashed into a solid brick wall at hundreds of miles per hour. It was a mean trick but I was offended that when Toad stole Captain America's shield and gave it to Quicksilver he had zipped by and bashed him with it hard enough that Cap was knocked out. Also it was really easy to fool Quicksilver. While he had flopped about on the ground holding his bruised face, broken nose, and fractured arms I had slipped the thin titanium cuffs on his wrists and ankles.

"I save you and still you boss me around like you're better than me," Toad said in a rather 'hipster' dialect. Resignedly he jumped back to the ground, stole my remaining knife with his tongue and kicked me in the side.

Lashing back I shared the feeling of the pain with him. Toad yelped and dropped my knife, which he had been about to use to free Quicksilver. Like a simpleton he kicked me again in the face which burned yet fiercer. He fell to his knees when I made him feel it too. We both uselessly buried our faces in our hands when I heard him scream. I heard the distinct sound of scissoring metal, like retractable blades emerging. The sound of Toad muttering apologies to fast to make out and the thumps of him jumping away quickly.

"HEY! Hey Toad get back here and help me!" Quicksilver yelled after him in very high-pitched tone.

The newcomer nudged him with a boot and the captured mutant was silent.

I peeked through my hands and saw a face I knew well.

Instantly I was transported into a memory, unintentionally bringing up a copy and making my rescuer see it too.

Rain pattered on the rooftops of the warehouses by the docks. Faded spray-paint logos and words colored the dingy bricks of the slumped buildings. A form was curled in an upright fetal position in the corner of a small alley. The face and any other identifiable features were covered by a tan newsboy cap and ugly olive green trench-coat. The person was crying and rocking back and forth. Flamingos in colorful neckties were trying to comfort her, offering silver trays of teacups filled with butterflies and butterscotch candies. A turtle grimaced imploringly at the girl, prodding her feet with its little wizened head.

Footsteps echoing across the formerly empty road nearby caused the form to wave a hand cloaked in a grey glove with black designs like tattoos to dismiss the visions. A huge figure loomed in the opening of the alley. He did not move on, instead staring at the figure.

"Hey kid, what are you doing here?" a gruff voice demanded shortly, as though he considered stopping to ask was a poor use of his time. The rain could not have been much incentive to stop there either.

Drops of rain dripped off the rim of the messenger cap, landing on the girl's knees. "Hiding from police and psychologists, they want to ask us questions. They'll tell them what I am, what I did. I know they'll betray me. If you're one I'll do it to you too."

The man laughed a quick chortle. "I ain't either, kid."

"Then I'll do it to you anyway if you don't go away. I don't care if you're some kind of Good Samaritan or one of the crazies' friends who wants answers. I'll attack you."

"And if I'm another mutant?"

The girl went still. "If you come near me and use any powers I'll use mine."

He gave another growling chuckle.

She looked up at him, not bothering to mask her true face. Satin grey skin as smooth as marble except for the tribal-style natural markings. Her eyes were red from crying which added further to the disturbed element of the blue and purple heterochromatic orbs. A perfect poker-face replaced the tortured expression and the girl stared deep into his eyes. A white elephant's head appeared through the wall as though it had phased straight through it. It had spikes attached to its tusks and was wearing a spiked headdress of the traditional war-elephant. Three Rottweiler hounds with crocodile flesh and razors for teeth materialized from the shadow, water and saliva spraying as they bayed at the man. A purple and turquoise tiger with wings and a cobra for a tail stalked into existence and chuffed threateningly, caressing the girls face and glaring at him.

The man did not even take a step back, though he did look uneasy about the strangeness of the summoned creatures. With a scissor-like sounding 'snick' three claws emerged from the gaps between his fingers.

The creatures vanished as the girl's eyes widened in fear. "No, no you know what I did! You're from that school in Westchester New York! An X-Man," Tears mingled with the rain trailing down her grey face, dribbling over her black mouth. "Please don't make it look like I committed suicide, I don't care if you have to mangle me. Just don't leave me looking like I killed myself. They'll know for sure it was me who did it and what I am." She covered her eyes.

"I'm not here to hurt you, kid, just make sure you don't run."

The adamantium claws retracted with the same sound they had emerged with. He came closer with hands open in an unaggressive nature. When he was close enough the girl lunged and grabbed his wrist, jumping up so her feet were up on the wall and her body coiled tense like a spring. Then she pushed off the wall and propelled herself over his shoulder, whipping his arm behind him and dislocating both the shoulder and the elbow. She stood behind him and forced the arm up so his wrist met his shoulder so that his wrist was likewise dislocated. The man cried out a horrible groan of agony.

Suddenly Reverie heard a person's voice in her head. _"That is enough Lena. Let him go. We just want to talk to you. I want to help you Lena, help you learn to control your gifts."_

A whirring sound like an electric wheelchair rolled across the wet pavement. Reverie released the cursing X-Man and muttered a hasty apology, dampening all feeling in his arm to compensate. If he came at her again she would give the pain back. A bald man in a wheelchair calmly regarded her.

"You can fight, kid," the first man growled, rubbing his arm.

The show of the memory vanished and Wolverine took a step back and shook his head like a wet dog would to get dry.

I knew I would have continued, sharing each therapy session with the professor and the actual events of each of the fourteen. But I had cut him out of the memories before they went too far. I was still caught up in seeing each distorted face babbling nonsense. Seeing scary images of the breakdown: my roommate lunging at me with a knife in broad daylight in the lunchroom, a boy's attempt to claw his own eyes out, orderlies restraining family in the hospital, and the horrific number fourteen blazing like lights.

"What are you doing going after Quicksilver alone?"

Automatically I answered, "He knocked Captain America unconscious."

Wolverine looked surprised, which on his face was identical to an offended expression. Or he could have been ticked off with me and I was misinterpreting. He raised one eyebrow in a questioning fashion.

"Fury captured me and it was join the Avengers or else. I knew the longer I stayed at a SHIELD base the more likely Fury would fluff my profile and find out that I ought to be in prison. Before that I was doing alright. I'm sorry I didn't have the nerve say goodbye to everyone's face." My shoulders slumped and I concentrated on the ground, making a mirage of miniature dinosaurs parade around my feet.

"Run off like that people worry 'bout you, kid," was his response.

"I thought the professor would tell me I wasn't ready."

"Were you?"

I sighed. "No, keeping my head on straight is as difficult as ever." I halfheartedly smiled at him to make it seem like a joke. Not that he believed that. The part about how I still had the dreams was need-to-know. The professor would skim the edges of his thoughts if Wolverine even mentioned he saw me and then Xavier would want me to come back if he knew about the dreams. I was kidding myself if I thought he wouldn't figure out from that brainless remark I had made.

A voice came from where I'd left Steve Rogers. "Reverie? Reverie?"

Reflexively, Wolverine's claws came out. I put a hand on his arm and said, "It's just Cap. Over here, I got him!"

Sprinting feet encased in those ridiculous red pirate boots came around the corner, halting when Cap saw Wolverine. They were old war buddies. Logan had been in just about every war in American history and Steve was a World War II vet, though I was unsure if the first avenger had known at the time that Wolverine was a mutant.

"Nice to see you not on ice, Cap," Wolverine remarked.

"I did not know you visited me. You're still young, but nowadays nothing would surprise me. This is Reverie; she's a new Avengers recruit."

Wolverine rubbed his shoulder, elbow, and wrist in succession, the memory I'd shown him still fresh in his mind, "We know each other."

"He lives at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters part-time. Wolverine teaches the best Danger Room sessions, stuff gets beat apart and blows up more often."

Captain America picked Quicksilver up by the chains of the titanium handcuffs and he and Logan began talking about the 'Good Old Days' like a happy pair of grandpa's and I trailed behind with a grin at hearing all the things they missed about the 1940's and beyond.

**(Anyway, I'm sorry about Wolverine being embarrassed in this. Please post all sorts of negative and scathing reviews about it!)**


	8. Chapter 8

**(So anyway Reverie experiences a training session with the Avengers, I probably was out of line with how easy they were tagged out at a few points along the story, so I am sorry for that if it's really bothersome. Though, hey, no one is perfect and they were unprepared for a practice quite like what happens.) **

I rocked back and forth on my heels and inspected the assembly of people there for the training session. All were present except Thor and Hulk. Captain America had asked a question and I was stalling. A few creepy inhuman fae that looked like purple imps sprang into existence and flapped around my head. They bared sharp glistening teeth at each other as they chattered in a sharp guttural language. I plucked one out of the air and examined the contours, checking my work.

"Well…" I dragged out the word as I considered. "Considering it's the six of you against me acting in Jarvis's place, is that really fair?" Playing the bad guy was not a happy thought.

"Come on Reverie, just come up with an objective or something and we'll beat it easy," Hawkeye demanded, patience already worn thin.

"Fine, just consider that you told me to do it, and it'll be far from easy." I waved my hands like a conductor for show and to trap my focus and hold it where it needed to be. A few buttons on the manual controls Stark had handed to me brought up a rock wall that was changed to a sheer cliff with a pedestal on top with a golden Egyptian-style disk floating just above the carved circle. Two sedimentary rock golems emerged from the cliff, underneath were a pair of robotic skeletons I could control. The ground falsely shook as I tapped on my team's equilibrium with each step the massive creatures took. Behind their legs archers in kilts took aim, another troop of robots with sleeping dart capabilities. Sword fighters that were intimidating elves that looked like they'd sprung straight out of Lord of the Rings materialized as well. These had no substance and were merely a distraction. Cacti sprung from the ground also. I knew someone was going to crash through them thinking they would pass unscathed, yet I was going to make sure they felt as though they had embraced a real cactus. Plus I planned to stagger their equilibrium so they were temporarily out for sure.

Naturally Wasp shrunk down and charged the archers, mistakenly flitting through a cactus. She made a sound like 'yipe' and backpedaled, gliding in circles as her sense of where she was became too distorted for proper flight. As she death-spiraled to the floor she giggled a little, but was put out when she discovered she could not immediately take flight again.

Hawkeye shot the archers, but the robots were off center of the illusions so his shots missed. That made him think they were totally insubstantial and he went for the swordsmen which were the ones that had no real mass. It took them longer than it should have to realize the elves were no harm to them, but they dutifully overtook them all the same and I rewarded the small victory with making their actions count against the creatures despite the nonexistence. They had to really work for it before I conceded.

Captain and Ironman teamed up, slipping past the elves while Ant-man and Hawkeye tried to defeat them without success, going after the golems. I was proud of how well the golems beat them away. Internally I was squealing in joy for all the damage I was able to practice on my creations.

The golems were defeated and Wasp's time-out was through so she rejoined the fray, knocking out a few archers collaterally with scattered wild shots. Hawkeye also took out the robots when he figured out they actually were real, much more easily since he'd figured out the trick was to aim as if shooting into water. However one of the robots had a lucky shot and Ant-man was down along with Captain America. A golem managed to bash Iron Man to the ground and stepped on him to pin him. Tony protested and shot beam after beam at the golem, but I had made a force field over the robot invulnerable up to a certain point. He had no idea the weak point was simply to bash it with something metal. A smart slap would have done it but he kept blasting it with blue energy. Cap had figured that out with the golem's significant other but he was in time-out. Wasp came to his rescue but was batted down. I rushed in and caught her before she hit the ground. With a wink in a very smart-aleck fashion I placed her on the floor and went invisible again.

Cap's time-out was shorter than the others and he took care of Iron Man's entrapment with his shield and took out a pair of the remaining archers while Hawkeye dueled three at once. Iron Man collected Wasp and Ant-Man even though they were in time-out, sticking your neck out for the team was a rule. Stark took them with him as he approached the pedestal. With a blue pulsing hand inches from the disk the pedestal vibrated and transformed from the carving of a four-headed panther with wings and eight cobra tails into an actual winged, snake-tailed panther with four seething faces. The disk hovered over the ground behind the fearsome cat.

None of them were used to a practice like this. Stark especially was disturbed and swore accordingly. Cap and Hawkeye assisted, but one of the cobras caught the shaft of the arrow midflight and snapped it in half in its mouth. Steve momentarily stunned the beast with his shield and Iron Man set it on fire with a blast. The horrid thing tackled Cap and he had too many things to keep from biting him even with the revived Ant-Man and Wasp's help. The purple-clad archer netted the apparition and the red-white-and-blue shield decapitated a head. Wasp blinded one of the remaining heads and Stark barbequed another. Fletching appeared through the eye of the last head.

Then the team raced to collect the disk but Iron Man tripped a cactus on the way and they had to stop and carry him up the rock face.

Clint Barton suggested they simply wait out the few minutes he would be incapacitated but I reappeared to remind him they would hardly do that in real life when they had a serious task to do. The archer flipped me off and they laboriously dragged him up the cliff, which had altered to provide terrible footholds. The team made it up and grabbed the disk.

My illusion faded out and I mocked Jarvis's voice, saying, "Simulation Complete."

"Glad you're on our side China Doll," Stark said, taking off his helmet.

"Yes, I had not considered earlier what a challenging opponent you would make. We need to do practice sessions like that more often."

I smiled bashfully at the team. With my face the way it was the grin probably more closely resembled an ugly smirk. "Your prior expectations of what I would do were what I noticed most. 'Know thine enemy', but don't rely on them to conform to past actions. Some villains have a creative streak. That took you way less time that what I've seen done. And much better teamwork getting your friends to the objective with you."

Jan was incredulous, "Wait, so back at your mutant school you were a teacher? This was an old lesson plan?"

"Teacher's Assistant," I corrected, "I only controlled the setting a few times a year for certain things in the curriculum. This was the one I did the younger kids whined about the most. So I thought I'd try it out here. Really you guys did great, nobody got a permanent out and you got to the disk under twenty minutes."

We filed out of the training room and I felt a twinge of shame. I was at last being truly accepted into the Avengers…Aside from one little thing. My potential for enmity had been acknowledged by Tony, despite it being in a joking manner. His very words had been the same that had driven me from my old home.

But I did not want to leave.

I wanted to stay.

I wanted to stay no matter what.

**(Yeah…kind of a fluff chapter, nothing really happens except the OC deciding she hopes to belong with the team for good. I'm still working on the plot and what should happen later on and when some really cool super-villains come into play. Thanks for reading! Please comment if you feel like it!)**


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